


these games you play

by broduce



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: M/M, but he's jihoon's lil prick, guanlin is a lil prick, jihoon gets flustered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-04 01:12:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13353366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broduce/pseuds/broduce
Summary: Jihoon isn't fooled. He is certain that Lai Guanlin, maknae of Wanna One and the object of his affections, is a scheming little devil wearing the appearance of a naive (and beautiful, Jihoon's mind helpfully supplies) angel.





	these games you play

**Author's Note:**

> Back with Panwink fluff, but who's surprised?
> 
> Inspired by that ep of K-Rush where Guanlin is a lil shit and makes his Ong hyung introduce their song and Jisung says that Guanlin is good at making people do things.

Jihoon sits on top of the kitchen counter, legs swinging off the side as he chews on a snack. The other members are lounged around the dorm, resting and making good use of a rare day free of schedules (read: Jaehwan was running around screeching his head off and Woojin was treatening to beat up the toaster).

Jihoon finds his eyes drawn, however, to a sprawled out figure on the couch. He scoffs quietly when he sees that the boy's lanky legs take up nearly the entire sitting space, with no consideration for poor Daehwi who is forced to huddle up into the corner. But Jihoon would be blatantly lying to himself if he didn't acknowledge the obvious smile curling up on his lips, as well as the softening of his eyes in fondness as he continues to observe Guanlin.

Jihoon likes Guanlin like this—his face free of makeup, his hair unstyled, and his body relaxed like he has no worries in the world. It's a look that teenagers all around the world sport every day, however, Jihoon can count on his fingers how many times Guanlin has looked this unbothered and stress-free.

As if sensing Jihoon's stare, Guanlin turns his head, locking eyes with him. He gives a quick look down at the bag of chips Jihoon is holding, then meets Jihoon's gaze again. Jihoon gulps, his hand unconsciously gripping the chips bag more tightly. He hears a few crunches and silently mourns the loss of full sized crispy chips. When he focuses again, Jihoon sees Guanlin sweep his tongue across his lips, the motion slow and deliberate. Jihoon watches as Guanlin smirks, one side of his mouth turning upwards, an action that makes his dimple pop out. A blink later, however, and Jihoon finds that the problematic expression is gone, replaced by an innocent pout that makes Jihoon's eyes soften even as his stomach knots in indescribable affection.

Jihoon isn't fooled. He is certain that Lai Guanlin, maknae of Wanna One and the object of his affections, is a scheming little devil wearing the appearance of a naive ( _and beautiful_ , Jihoon's mind helpfully supplies) angel.

 

* * *

 

 _Jisung hyung is going to kill me_ , was all Jihoon could think as he fastened his pace, weaving his way between unfamiliar white walls.

He had needed to pee 15 minutes before their performance and had begged their _kindest of all, more handsome than Minhyun hyung, better driver than Ong hyung, most beloved Jisung hyung_ to let him sneak out.

But he was lost after walking for 5 minutes, his feet taking him in what he was pretty sure were circles.

"Jihoon hyung!"

Jihoon turned quickly at his name, almost crying in relief when he caught sight of Guanlin waving him over to a room.

"Where have you been?" Guanlin asked, his voice half concerned and half impatient, but Jihoon couldn't even open up his mouth before Guanlin reached over to tug him close.

Jihoon's entire body stilled as he watched Guanlin's hand reach over his head to get caught in his hair.

Guanlin's fingers were long and slender, and the way they wound themselves around Jihoon's locks made Jihoon weak in the knees.

When Guanlin tugged just a little, the pressure sent a shock of pleasure down Jihoon's entire body, forcing him to choke down a gasp. As it was, he couldn't help the automatic shutting of his eyes and the curling of his toes inside his shoes as he focused on the feeling.

When Jihoon opened his eyes again, he saw Guanlin looking down at him, a smirk present on his lips as his eyes danced with amusement.

"You had something in your hair," was all Guanlin said before he pushed a flushed Jihoon into the waiting room.

The makeup noonas fussed over his messed up hair, bombarding him with questions of _what did you do_ , but Jihoon kept his mouth shut, not knowing what kind of sound would come out if he opened it.

He looked over at Guanlin, who, standing a foot away and with not a hair out of place, was observing the scene with a satisfied grin.

When he met Jihoon's gaze, Guanlin widened his eyes slightly in practiced worry and puffed his cheeks out in a frustratingly adorable way before he said, "Hyung, you better hurry. We only have a minute before we have to go on stage!"

Jihoon either wanted to smack the look off of Guanlin's face or caress his face softly. His brain told him it was the first, but when Guanlin continued to stare at him with that faintly victorious look and his heart took off in funny rhythms, Jihoon knew he wasn't fooling anyone, not even himself.

 

* * *

 

Jihoon wished the driver would turn up the damn heater because he was freezing. Stupid YMC and their stupid vans that only had vents in the front for the driver and the shotgun. Stupid Ha Sungwoon and his motion sickness appeal that gave him automatic rights to the passenger seat. Why should the rest of them have to suffer through bumpiness as well as the cold?

But Jihoon can't say that he minded too much. Not when the cold caused Guanlin to press himself as close as humanly possible to Jihoon's side, their knees bumping into each other as they tried to share heat.

Jihoon's teeth started to chatter and he could see his breath when he breathed. In the backseat, Jihoon could hear Daniel tell anyone who was listening and who cared (read: probably no one) about _the cutest little balls of poop that Peter and Rooney pooped out this morning_ and _does anyone want to see pictures?_

Jihoon wondered how Daniel could still talk given the temperature. He was so engrossed in his worry for his bandmate that he didn't notice Guanlin reaching toward him until he felt something cold touch his equally cold hand.

Jihoon startled, glancing up quickly at Guanlin in surprise. The younger just smiled, lacing their fingers together in a move so natural that Jihoon shivered, and not from the cold.

Guanlin's hands were rough and slightly calloused on the inside, the result of years of playing and swinging off of monkey bars, and a stark contrast to Jihoon's soft and plump ones. Guanlin's fingers were long and slim, the result of years of playing the piano; Jihoon's were more stubby and chubby.

When Guanlin locked their fingers together into a tight fit, Jihoon marveled at how well their hands molded around each other.

Jihoon moved his gaze from their interlocked fingers to Guanlin's eyes. Guanlin was watching him with barely concealed amusement, a laugh already bubbling out.

Jihoon's eyes moved down again when he felt a soft squeeze of his hand. It felt nice, especially when Guanlin continued with small drawings of circles on the back of Jihoon's hand.

When Guanlin lifted up their intertwined hands and deposited them into his coat pocket, Jihoon's eyes widened and his eyes flew up.

"It's cold," was all Guanlin said before he placed his head on Jihoon's shoulder, his hair tickling Jihoon's bare skin. Jihoon, sitting as straight as he could, watched as Guanlin's eyes fluttered close.

Jihoon, still watching, didn't miss the way Guanlin's mouth twitched with the effort to conceal a smirk, the prominent curve of his dimple giving him away.

 

* * *

 

If anyone asked Jihoon what his favorite room in the dorm was, he would immediately answer the kitchen. Sure, his bed was nice and all but...food.

Which was why he found his feet mindlessly taking him toward the fridge. He opened it up, blinking against the harsh light. His eyes scanned the shelves before he sighed and closed the door. Half a minute later, he opened it up again and took out a strawberry milk.

He joined Jinyoung on the floor of the living room. There was a variety show playing on the TV, and Jihoon watched with mild enthusiasm, more interested in his strawberry milk.

He took a gulp, his eyes momentarily getting distracted from the TV by a certain Lai Guanlin walking into the room, his hair disheveled and his eyes still half asleep.

"Nice nap?" Jihoon asked with a fond smile as Guanlin took a seat next to him.

Guanlin nodded wordlessly, his head falling backwards to land softly against the plush couch, his eyes closing.

Jihoon watched the way Guanlin's eyelashes fanned out to frame his eyes, the way his nose jutted out at a perfect angle, the way his lips looked so plump and inviting that Jihoon wanted to—

Jihoon tore his eyes away from the younger, his heart hammering in his chest as he turned back to face the TV. There were spinning spots of color in his eyes as he tried to focus back on the show and his hands shook lightly as he grabbed the strawberry milk, gulping it down hastily and messily.

Suddenly, there were arms on both sides of Jihoon's body, trapping him against the soft plush of the couch. Jihoon's gaze jerked up, the shock on his face replaced by curious embarrassment as his eyes met Guanlin's face, positioned a few mere inches away from his own.

"L—Lin?" Jihoon squeaked out, wincing at how breathless he sounded.

Guanlin was always beautiful. Jihoon had that much figured out from the very first filming, when he found his eyes following the foreign boy's every move. A year later, the habit still persisted. Jihoon thought he probably knew Guanlin's body better than he knew his own, just from all the staring he had done.

That didn't make Guanlin any less beautiful. Which was why, with Guanlin's face so close to his, Jihoon found his breath hitching and his heart pounding so hard that it almost hurt.

Jihoon could count the individual eyelashes framing Guanlin's pretty eyes. He could clearly see the little mole on the tip of Guanlin's nose. And he could definitely see the way Guanlin's lips curled up into a smirk, so different from the usual gummy smile.

Jihoon forced himself to look into Guanlin's eyes, which were mischievous and playful. He tried not to think about the way his own face was probably on fire or the way his eyes seemed to have a mind of their own and kept trailing back down to Guanlin's red and plump lips.

Jihoon shook his head, bringing a shaky arm up to feebly attempt to push Guanlin away. "Guanlin, what are you—"

Before Jihoon's hand could even make contact with Guanlin's chest, however, he found something against his mouth, stopping his arm, as well as his words. Something warm and soft. Something that suspiciously felt like Guanlin's lips on his. Jihoon's eyes instinctively fell shut, just as an embarrassing squeak slipped out.

Guanlin's lips were gone almost as soon as they were there and Jihoon had to remind himself to breathe properly.

_In and out. In and out._

When Jihoon opened his eyes again, he found himself staring at the TV instead of at Guanlin's face. He turned his head in confusion, only to find Guanlin leaning back against the couch, the epitome of calm indifference etched on his face.

He turned his head to the other side and was met with Jinyoung's equally passive face, still focused on the TV.

"What the hell?" Jihoon hissed, teeth clenched as he turned back to Guanlin, hoping his face wasn't as red as he thought it was.

Guanlin tore his gaze off the TV to look at Jihoon, an almost bored expression on his face. "What?"

Jihoon wanted to scream but his stomach was doing those weird somersaults again that made his heart jump into his throat, so all he could do was splutter out, "Wh...what do you mean what? You just...you just—"

Guanlin, apparently losing interest in whatever Jihoon was spouting out, shifted his eyes back to the TV as he stretched an arm up before he let it fall back down on the couch, just behind Jihoon's back.

"I wanted to taste the strawberry milk," Guanlin said nonchalantly as he wrapped said arm around Jihoon's shoulder, his grip warm and tight...familiar.

Jihoon wanted to retort back, but instead found his body betraying him and relaxing into Guanlin's touch. It was embarrassing, really, how he automatically found himself leaning into Guanlin, shifting his body so that he could press into Guanlin's side.

That close, Jihoon didn't—couldn't—miss the faint blush on Guanlin's cheek, nor the way the younger bit on his bottom lip to keep the satisfied grin from peeking out.

Those eyes, however, those eyes shone with a victory that couldn't be concealed. And Jihoon kind of wanted to smack Guanlin upside down or maybe he wanted to hide forever, but he settled for shrugging out of Guanlin's grasp, only to yelp when Guanlin wrapped both arms around him a second later, pulling the older onto his lap. Jihoon worked his burning face into an expression of exasperation, but knew he failed when his eyes met Guanlin's bright ones, both of their grins a little shy and a lot happy.

 

* * *

 

Which is where Jihoon finds himself now, sitting on the counter of the kitchen, still locked in a staring contest with Guanlin across the room, with neither backing down.

Jihoon watches as Guanlin sluggishly moves off the couch, his long limbs swinging off the leather easily. He watches as those long limbs walk—agonizingly slow—toward him.

Jihoon knows all of Guanlin's walks. There's the confident walk for press conferences and performances; there's the shy and polite walk for greeting sunbaes and staff members; there's the exhausted walk for after practice at ungodly hours. And then there was this walk — the one where Guanlin's steps are just a little unsteady, with a small bounce in them as if he couldn't get to his target fast enough, and Jihoon secretly calls this walk the _Jihoon walk_ , because Guanlin only ever uses it when he's coming towards him.

"Hey," Guanlin mutters when he's close.

Jihoon watches as Guanlin positions himself between Jihoon's legs. And Jihoon, almost naturally, finds himself leaning forward, his legs circling around Guanlin to wrap around the tall boy.

"Hi," he says simply as he grins cheekily down at Guanlin.

In this position, Guanlin's head comes right up to Jihoon's chest. Jihoon relishes the rare moments when the situation is flipped and he is the one staring down at the gigantic maknae.

Jihoon wants nothing more than to tangle his fingers into Guanlin's hair, styled down and looking so soft, but he holds himself back, hiding his hands behind him.

Suddenly, there's a hand tugging him forward and Jihoon registers the feeling of falling. But then he feels the strong—familiar—arms around his waist and he lets himself fall into Guanlin's embrace.

"Ow," Jihoon murmurs, his voice slightly muffled against Guanlin's shoulder.

Jihoon feels Guanlin's entire body shake as he laughed. And he can't help himself — he laughs right along with Guanlin.

"What was that for?" Jihoon asks softly, his arms hanging uncertainly at his side as he waits for Guanlin's answer.

Briefly, he wonders what excuse the boy was going to give this time.

"Nothing. Just because." Guanlin pulls back to look at Jihoon face to face, and Jihoon's heart picks up as he stares into Guanlin's nervous but teasing eyes.

"Just because?" Jihoon repeats, his words coming out in a whisper.

"Yeah. Just because I wanted to." Guanlin's voice is confident and strong, and Jihoon feels this weird pride in him and Guanlin's lips are turned upwards in the most blinding smile Jihoon has ever seen and Jihoon really wants to kiss him—

So he does. He leans forward, his previously limp arms coming forward to latch around Guanlin's neck, his hands tangling messily into Guanlin's soft locks before he presses his lips to Guanlin's. The kiss is gentle, with slow movements of lips against each other and soft brushes. There's something so easy, so right about it though, and Jihoon feels it as soon as their lips meet.

From the way Guanlin's arms tighten around him, Jihoon wants to believe that Guanlin feels it too.

When Jihoon pulls away, he's met with the most beautiful sight — Guanlin, his hair a mess of a nest, his eyes wide with something that Jihoon is sure is mirrored in his own eyes, his cheeks brushed with the palest of pinks, and his lips swollen and cherry red.

Jihoon laughs, leaning forward to capture Guanlin's lips again. Guanlin smiles into the kiss, and even with his eyes closed, Jihoon can see, with so much clarity, the tug of Guanlin's lips upward, his dimple poking prominently out of his cheek.

And now he's positive that the innocent maknae image is a fluke, and that Lai Guanlin was nothing short of the son of Satan himself, but honestly? Jihoon, with his fingers in Guanlin's hair and with Guanlin's secure arms around his waist, can't find it in him to mind.

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I probably use the Jihoon-sitting-on-the-counter-so-he's-finally-taller-than-Guanlin scene too much in my fics but I can't help it!!! It's just too cute to imagine.
> 
> Let me know if you enjoyed :)


End file.
